Last Sanctuary
by Seigetsu Ren
Summary: We take time for granted. When we realize it, it's often already too late. (Warning: major character death)


**Last Sanctuary**

 _We take time for granted. When we realize it, it's often already too late._

* * *

The cab sped through the night, but it was not fast enough for her. She turned her eyes to her watch for the who knows how many times it had been during her short ride. 23:40. The hour and minutes held little meaning, as she really didn't know how much time she had left. She just hoped that the phone call she would inevitably receive could be delayed just another second, and another, and another…

Her destination was the hospital. She had visited from time to time ever since three months ago when "it" happened. She wouldn't call the visits frequent. It was not an everyday occurrence. There were so many reasons why she had held herself back, but now they all came to haunt her. Regrets. They felt like acid in her blood. If only she could go back in time, she would have visited more. She would have talked to her more, even if the conversations were awkward and inconsequential. She would have already told her the words that were now echoing through her mind.

Three months ago, Minato-san had collapsed during practice. Apparently, she had been sick since spring, but had hidden the diagnosis from her band – from Sayo.

"I will get better," she had said resolutely from her hospital bed the first time Sayo had gone to visit her. Sayo believed in her words, as she had always done. Minato-san was their leader. She would follow her wherever she decided to go.

But no matter how many times Minato-san repeated those words, it had become undeniable that her condition was worsening. At first, she had still been well enough to be wheeled down to the courtyard where she would sing to the last of the birds' songs. As the birds migrated and the temperature dropped further with the setting of winter, she had become confined to her bed. She, too, must have realized what had become of her body – or perhaps "realize" was not the right word when "acceptance" was what she found. When Sayo reassured her that she would get better, she just smiled and said softly, "I will try."

The last time Sayo had visited was a week ago. Minato-san had been lying in bed when she came by. She almost turned away so as to not disturb her from rest, but Minato-san insisted that she stayed.

"I want to spend more time with you, Sayo," she had said. _We can spend all the time together once you get better_ – Sayo had wanted to say, but that would have been a cruel lie. She stayed.

Minato-san asked her to help prop her up onto the headboard. Sayo did. Though Minato-san rested all her weight on Sayo's arms, she had felt light, far too light. Sayo placed the pillows between Minato-san's back and the headboard. As Minato-san rested against them, it looked as though she had been engulfed by the white masses.

"How is the band?" Minato-san asked. Sayo could not tell her that they fell apart without her guidance, so instead she focused on their individual practice.

"We have all been diligently practising. We are waiting for your return after all."

"Is that so?"

Minato-san turned to look out the window. It had been a pleasant day, tall skies with few clouds to dot them. The trees had long since been bared, but in a few months they would bloom again with cherry. Had Minato-san been musing that she would only see those pink petals again in her dreams?

"Would you play for me?" Minato-san broke the silence.

"You mean…the guitar?"

"Yes. Is that too much to ask?"

"I…"

Of course, it had not been too much. _Nothing is too much for you._ But Sayo had not brought her guitar, and even if she had, she likely couldn't play it in a hospital room.

"I don't think I can play here, but I have recorded myself during practice. If you would bear with my amateurish sound, I could play it for you on my phone."

Minato-san nodded. "Please do."

Sayo adjusted her chair so she sat side by side with Minato-san. She hooked up the earbuds to her phone and passed one to Minato-san while placing the other in her own ear. At the press of the play button, the quiet notes of the backing track sounded – the ring of chimes, plucking of the bass, chords on the keyboard, then the drums pounded with Sayo's guitar finally coming in to soar above them all in the foreground.

" _Sanctuary_." Minato-san identified.

"Yes."

"Your sound is beautiful, Sayo. Always so precise. Always so distinct. You are my guide. With you beside me, I am no longer afraid."

Sayo felt her eyes water – she turned her gaze to the ceiling so the tears would not fall. The chorus was playing now. Minato-san leaned onto her shoulder and sang along, her voice had become little but a whisper. But Sayo could hear it as clear as the sounds of days bygone - the stage bright with their light, the stands below seas of soothing blue.

 _Dearest…You are my Dearest  
The prisms of our dreams intersect  
These budding sounds that we've weaved  
This is Sanctuary  
Feeling each one, treasuring each one  
This clear water mirror shows us moving to the future_

The words she had wanted to say for so long had been at the tip of her tongue, but Sayo did not let them out. She had so much fear. Fear of Minato-san's reaction. Fear of the words sounding a conclusion, a finality she rejected. If she kept silent, she could always remain by Minato-san's side. Their time would go on. Forever and ever. Again and again. Her guitar would play behind her song in a never-ending performance.

A cowardly delusion, she knew. But it was all she had. She would give anything to make it come true; alas, she had nothing of value to trade for "Life" itself.

Minato-san was dying. She had tried so very hard to disbelieve, had refused for the past days to go witness those last breaths leaving Minato-san's chest, but ignorance was no longer an option. Ten minutes ago, Imai-san had given her a phone call. The attending physician had said Minato-san would not last the night. Her family had already said their farewells. If Sayo wanted to do the same, now was her final chance.

The hospital building came into view. Sayo shoved the bills into the taxi driver's hands and ran inside, her brain chanting Minato-san's room number. _370, 370, 370…_ she repeated. She had to make sure she remembered. There was no time to waste.

The elevator was coming too slow. She ran for the stairs, taking two at a time. _Do not run in the halls._ – she would call out her fellow student at Hanajo in her position as a Disciplinary Committee member. But it didn't matter now. Nothing mattered except _her_.

She arrived at the hallway outside the room. It was very quiet, visitation hours long over. Minato-san's parents were there, alongside Imai-san and her family. Ako and Rinko as well as several close friends were also on the way, but they probably wouldn't make it.

Minato-san's father held the door open for Sayo to go inside. A white room of white walls and white sheets. Minato-san blended into the surroundings, her silver hair falling onto the pile of pillows beneath her. Her eyes were closed, her breaths shallow against the mask over her face. Sayo sat down by her side and held her hand.

"Minato-san, it's me – Sayo."

Sayo had told herself she wouldn't cry. Minato-san wouldn't want her to, she knew. But the tears wouldn't stop falling now – they soaked the sheets by her free hand that had been clenched to a fist.

"I'm sorry," she said, her voice shaking. "I'm so sorry. I should've been here more often. I should've stayed by your side when it hurt, when you were afraid…I had been a coward. I couldn't accept losing you. I'm sorry for being so selfish. I wish I could do it all over, then I would be here no matter what. I would be the precise sound that guides you. I would do anything for you…"

"Because…because I love you. I love you…Yukina."

"You found me when I was alone. You gave me hope when I had none. Your voice was my light. Just being beside you had made me so, so happy."

The hand in Sayo's twitched and she looked up to see Yukina's eyes had opened slightly, her focus unclear, drifting somewhere behind Sayo. She opened her mouth desperately. Sayo nodded, sliding off the mask to hear her words.

"…Sayo…I love you too."

She closed her eyes one last time. When she passed, she had been smiling.

* * *

Yukina's memorial services were held on a Tuesday. Tuesday, day of fire, day of Mars. She had fought like a warrior till the very end, with passion and love for the life she had lived. Though her time might have been brief, she burned brighter than any fire. She had lighted Sayo's night.

As Sayo waited in line, she thought back to Yukina's last moments. Some might ask what was the purpose of confessing to a dying person, and what use would there be for the dying to accept such a fruitless confession? But to Sayo, it meant everything. Words they had long wanted to say to each other, words they had long awaited to hear…giving voice to those words alone had eased their regrets. Even if it had just been for a second, they had been together. They were no longer lonely.

Sayo finally reached the casket. Yukina lay there silently, peaceful as though in deep sleep. Sayo placed her flower by Yukina's side – a rose dyed a vibrant blue. The impossible made possible. The wretch who became saved. _Thank you for having found me, Yukina. Thank you for having let me stay by your side. Thank you…and…_

 _Goodbye._

* * *

AN: I wanted to write something happier and fluffier since it's Christmas/New Years, but somehow this idea came up and I just couldn't put it down. A family member of mine passed a few years back and it is a continual regret that I haven't been able to do much for him before his passing. I wanted to put these feelings to words and hope that anybody reading this would take the opportunity to do something nice with those dear to them this holiday season. Another inspiration is definitely all those fics on Twitter and Pixiv that have made me cry by killing off Yukina. Sorry, Yukina-chan. I swear you are my best girl, but I just couldn't help it... Anyway, thanks for reading. Comments and suggestions are appreciated. This work is cross-posted on AO3.


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